


Returning Home

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Series: Warriors Main OCs writing collection [7]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: He's home.





	Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah..... more crap from Amino. Not connected to my other OCs but I still consider him a main one.
> 
> FF A/N: Even though I am leaving Amino I plan on using my OCs and adoptables, especially this boy (https : slash slash warriors dot aminoapps dot com slash page slash item slash softwind slash Pa4j underscore GNc3ID25Jw8N4gQw4EnWnJr61QoY5) that I got from my friend Maple. I will definitely be writing and drawing Softwind, which you will see on my Insta (Shenanigans (underscore) ff) !
> 
>  
> 
> (( Amino A/N: So I got a new bab from MapleCat, and I am gonna have so much fun with this boy.
> 
> My aim with writing him isn't Angst or Fluff; rather, it's /Feeling/. I want to feel the emotions myself and hopefully get you guys to feel them too.
> 
> This is inspired by "From The Ground Up" by Sleeping At Last, and I'm doing an art piece inspired by it too which I hopefully will get done Tommarrow.
> 
> Honestly I'm a little emotional after writing this I'm not gonna lie. I freaking love the wind.))

  
_ Returning Home _

* * *

* * *

  
  
He breathes in as the wind passes over him, ruffling his fur. His eyes close and he hears the grass whisper in the passing caress, smells what the sky carries. He feels it in his heart just as much as his senses tell him.   
  
_ Home _ .   
  
He smiles, not yet opening his eyes. After all, what's the rush? He'll savor it - this moment. Because it's this -  _ this _ \- that fills his heart to the brim with joy and jubilation.   
  
Softwind is a wanderer born; he'll always allow for the hum in his bones and blood to urge him onwards, directing his paws  _ away _ . He'll never stop traveling,  _ never _ .   
  
But the return is just as important as the leave and the journey itself, and, truthfully, his favourite part.   
  
He knows by the gentle warmth of the sun on this windy Autumn day that it is late afternoon. He knows that when he opens his eyes that he'll see the pale, faded grass of the hill he is on roll down, down, down into the gentle valley of his, where he'll rest and spend the next few moons having fun alone and directing the odd travelled that passes through.   
  
He knows that right now it's lit in gentle sunshine, and that if he waits about an hour more or so that Sunset will catch fire and alight the whole valley in the most eye-catching orange like no other place he's seen before.   
  
He knows that hills - hills far taller than the small thing he's on that he's tempted to call them mountains except he has  _ seen _ mountains - surrounded him in rising waves like birdsong, in a gentle ring, protecting him and all that is his.   
  
He knows this.   
  
And  _ that's _ why he loves it;  _ that's _ what makes the journey worth it - what makes his throat catch and tighten and his heart feel like a hawk screeching with absolute  _ joy _ as it sails through the wind   
  
So when he finally does open his eyes, orange and blinking with a swell of emotions, he allows his light heart to guide his paws, jumping and capering down the hill and his mind crying aloud with the pure happiness filling through him.   
  
_ He's Home. _


End file.
